Before the Moon
by CassBlake
Summary: Feeling betrayed and angry, one finds comfort in the bitterness of champagne and the moon's company, until joined by another... BZDM.


**Title:** Before the Moon  
**Author:** C.K. Blake  
**Email:** ,  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, Mild Angst.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Summary:** Feeling betrayed and angry, one finds comfort in the bitterness of champagne and the moon's company, until joined by another... BZ/DM.  
**Author's notes:** This is my answer to a weekly challenge at Quiet Ones! The challenge is mentioned after the story. I hope I met the criteria!  
**Dedication:** As always this goes out to Lissa, who has seen me at my best and my worse where my words were concerned. Lovin' ya Lissie Poo!  
  
-Cassie

"Before the Moon"

_The breeze picks up,  
__Surrounds me, Caresses me,  
__Steals my breath away.  
__My palms slowly open to the sky,  
__Fingertips trickling electricity,  
__I feel the magic gathering within me._

_Slowly my eyes drift open,  
__My face to the sky is lifted.  
__Rich indigo my vision engulfed,  
__My heart rises in spirit,  
__As my knees give way to Earth,  
__My solemn oath to the moon bound._

_Crackling around me, shadows of lightening,  
__Strength in every lively spark across my flesh,  
__A rich laugh from my throat escapes.  
__My eyes fill with the night's glittering stars.  
__How far in these dreams have I drifted?  
__Let me not wake if so peaceful I slumber._

-C.K. Blake "If So Peaceful I Slumber"

How long had it been since he felt alive? The boy let out a breath of air, as he leaned back on his arms, which were stretched out behind him on the stone bench. A simple smile of irony on his handsome face, his indigo eyes sparkling bitterly with angry tears. Slowly he laid back on the long bench, and his hand reached out for the crystal flute of champagne, his fingers wrapping tenderly around the stem as he lifted the delicate crystal flute to his lips, sipping the bittersweet gold within it, the bubbles tickling his throat as he swallowed. He sighed as he put the flute back in its place on the ground next to two bottles, one empty and the other half-empty.

The boy then sighed and gazed up at the sky, wondering how and when things could have turned so sour. When had his lover decided that girls were more to his liking? The dark haired boy blinked his eyes, the tears that had been pooling within them trickling from the corners of his eyes and down his face to get lost in the rich silky darkness of his hair. The moonlight making his olive skin golden, like honey.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," he whispered to the night sky. "You are supposed to be with me now. This was the one dream I wasn't supposed to wake up from."

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Stepping out of the shower the boy began to towel off, reveling in the feel of the plush towel against his skin, remembering when another set of hands would help him dry off the muggle way. To be honest, he missed those hands. He'd missed them ever since the night of their big fight. The night when Blaise had pulled away from him and stormed from his room, had that only been a few weeks ago?

Grey eyes stared back at him from his reflection when he heard the loud, pristine knocking on the door.

"Malfoy! You've been in there for ages," Hermione Granger, the head girl snapped.

Draco rolled his eyes as he picked up his wand and did a quick drying charm. He then pulled on his boxers, black trousers, and soft, silky beige shirt buttoning it quickly as the knocking increased in both frequency and volume. Draco caught his reflection in the mirror once more, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed how his platinum hair hung about his face, just barely brushing his shoulders. Finally having enough of the infernal knocking, he yanked open the door, and again his eyebrow lifted as he noted her gasp as she looked at him.

"See something you like, Granger?"

The girl flushed and then shook herself, quickly regaining control, as she said, "Nothing but a rich, spoilt, little ferret."

"Your eyes say otherwise," he purred teasingly as he took a step closer to the girl, and then wrapped his arms around her.

Her eyes widened at his actions and she felt as though she were drowning in depths of grey as she met his gaze. She ran her tongue gingerly over her lips, her pulse increased in speed, as her breath came out in short rasps. She felt warmth pooling in her stomach at their closeness. He lifted his hand, and gently stroked her cheek, his head tilting ever so slightly to the left as he observed her reactions.

When she made a small sound and leaned into his touch, he couldn't take it anymore. A shock ran up his spine as he released the girl and she nearly fell back on the floor, as his arms were no longer holding her up. She blushed furiously, wondering what had just happened, before she noticed the strange pained look on the beautiful boy's face. How was it that Draco Malfoy was human enough to know pain?

He turned from her and began heading toward the door of their common room.

"Where are you going?" she asked, because she couldn't help herself

He spun around to face her, his eyes flashing dangerously, as he shrugged and answered, "To the only place I've ever belonged."

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The breeze picked up around him, tossing his dark hair about heedlessly, and his eyes were closed, imaging not the wind's touch, but the touch of aristocratic pale fingers. He snorted, wondering when he would be free of the memories, of the need he felt. He wondered when the aching would end and he would finally be ripped apart.

He reached out blindly for the flute of champagne, knocking it over. With a bitter laugh he then reached out until his hands closed around the neck of the half-empty bottle and brought it to his lips, no longer caring about formalities as he took a great gulp from the bottle, the bubbling bitterness matching perfectly with his mood. He set the bottle back on the ground, and folded his arms behind his head, his eyes still closed, as the chill air made his arms break out in gooseflesh.

Still the temperature had little effect on him, as he was beyond feeling anything but the waves of pain and betrayal washing through him. It was when fingers, so familiar, traced lightly across his cheek that his indigo eyes shot open, meeting fiery grey. He could hardly believe that the boy was there, his face so close, his hair glowing molten silver and gold in the moonlight. Taking one arm from behind his head, the dark haired boy snaked his hand across the fair skinned boy's silk covered shoulder, his fingers massaging the smooth nape of the boy's neck before his fingers tangled into the boy's hair and he jerked the fair skinned boy into a kiss of passion, desperation, hunger. His tongue traced those pale lips, demanding entrance, and the fair skinned boy opened his mouth to him, and soon their tongues met, clashing, tasting, remembering, and both boys broke away from the kiss, panting, as they stared at each other.

Suddenly the dark haired boy's hand released the fair-haired boy, and he looked away, unable to hold that grey gaze any longer. The blond boy picked up the nearly empty bottle of champagne before he drank what was left, and lifting the other boy's legs from the bench, he sat down and carefully replaced those legs in his lap, and he inclined his head to look at the boy, so determined to look away from him.

"Blaise, why did we fight that night?" the blond boy asked.

The dark haired boy sighed, before returning his pained eyes to the face of his lover. "You went to the ball with Hermione Granger, and when the two of you danced... I knew it was over between us. You seemed happy with her. I thought I would spare you the awkwardness of telling me off. Have you forgotten that when this began, you were the one that said this was just hormones? Just silly, desperate need, nothing more than reaction to touch?" Blaise replied, a bitter edge in his voice.

"And what is it to you?"

"Damn it, Draco, this was never about me. It was about what you needed, and what I could give you. If it had been about me, you would have at least danced with me once at the ball."

"All of this has been about a bloody dance?"

"It wasn't the dance, you stupid prat," Blaise growled, before he finished in a whisper. "It was about me falling in love with you."

Draco looked stunned by the boy's words, and then he noticed another bottle of champagne and an over turned champagne flute, wondering just how much the boy had drank.

"Are you drunk?" he asked.

"Drunk or sober doesn't change things. I want something that is simply not meant to be," Blaise replied.

Draco shook his head. "What if I miss you? What if I want you in my bed, your hands on me? Your lips always available when I want to kiss them? What if I still want you?"

"Why would you want me?" Blaise asked with a bitter laugh.

"Perhaps it's not about want, but need. The past few weeks without you... I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you in my bed..." Draco was cut short as Blaise sat up, removing his legs from Draco's lap, and setting his feet on the ground.

"So that's what it's about? Having me in bed? Is that what you think I am? Your little whore?" Blaise snapped.

"I also miss talking to you," Draco answered softly, as he brought his hand to the dark haired boy's face, sweeping back a rich, silky black curl from the boy's forehead. "We've been a secret from the world for too long. I can't imagine being without you Blaise, and if showing the world about us is the only way to keep you, then I will show the world. We don't have my father to worry about anymore, and everyone else be damned."

Blaise's dark indigo eyes widened. "You mean you still want me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Would I be out in this frightfully cold garden without any shoes if I felt otherwise?"

"If this is a trick, Malfoy," Blaise spoke warily and Draco winced.

"Its not. I swear it Blaise," Draco replied desperately. "I kissed her tonight, and all I could think about was you. Bloody hell, stupid, drunk git. I'm out here freezing my arse off, not even wearing shoes and you think I'm not sincere?"

"Fine, we can go inside. Whenever you want," Blaise said and he lifted his wand and cast a sobering charm on himself, and having done that he shivered. "Bollocks, I forgot my cloak. It's a bit nippy out, let's get inside before your toes freeze off or something."

"First I think I owe you a dance," Draco said and grabbed Blaise's hand before the boy could protest, and listening to the rustling of the garden, Draco put his hands around the dark haired boy's waist, and smiled when he felt his lover's hands on his shoulders, as they both swayed to a melody that only the two of them shared.

"You know," Draco began softly and took a deep breath. "It's not easy for me to deal with emotions. You know what I grew up around. I might not ever say the things you want to hear, but it doesn't mean that you don't matter to me. I'm a right prat most of the time, but you've seen beneath all that, and..."

Blaise slowly stopped moving, and drew back to look into the grey eyes of his lover, and his own indigo eyes widened at what he saw there, then he leaned in until their lips met, their mouths opening in a hunger both boy's were desperate to sate. When they parted Blaise spoke. "You don't have to say it. I've seen beneath it all. Now let's go to your rooms. I haven't a cloak, and you..." Blaise paused and smirked. "You really aren't wearing any shoes. Silly prat."

End.

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Post Author Notes: This was in response to one of the weekly challenges from Quiet Ones. Here are the challenge Requirements:  
  
This Challenge Must Include:  
  
-Moonlight  
-Teasing  
-A Kiss  
-Dancing  
-Champagne


End file.
